


a bond of blood and soul

by EssayOfThoughts



Series: MCU Maximoff Oneshots [179]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Codependency, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Sibling Incest, Soulbonding To Avoid Being Forcibly Bonded To Someone Else, Soulbonds, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 08:53:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19826725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EssayOfThoughts/pseuds/EssayOfThoughts
Summary: We are going to be parted,Pietro thinks, and Wanda sees every fear that passes through his mind. Not saying goodbye, not being there for each other if one of them is sick or hurt, not being there if one of them needs comfort, needsprotecting- and Wanda sees how Pietro’s mind begins to spin into panic. Her own mind is not far from following.Pietro must sense it though - Pietro has always sensed it, and always so much more quickly when they are close, and she senses his thoughts turn to her as her hand is gripped by his.





	a bond of blood and soul

**Author's Note:**

  * For [copacet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/copacet/gifts).



> copacet, my dear, your prompts seem to have a habit of encouraging me to finish up actually-years-old WIPs I hadn't thought I was going to touch ever again. I was poking through prompts to treat for and your string of Maximoff ones may or may not have snuck up behind me, grabbed an old and almost forgotten WIP from my pocket, and then walloped me over the head with it. 
> 
> This is not exactly any one of your Maximoff prompts, but what I will here refer to as a CanonSmush. That is to say, I smushed together various canons to get the details I wanted, but its still the twins, there's still soulbond shenanigans, and I hope you have fun.

The party is large. Larger than any of the gatherings they’ve had in months, but then, Genosha’s war, it seems, is coming to an end, and with their father finally wrangling things towards peace it is up to his children to entertain the guests and ensure no further war breaks out.

Genosha, after all, may have a myriad people with a myriad magics, but they are small and few in comparison to some of the others.

* * *

Their father’s desk is a mess - it always has been, from the days that Wanda was the apparent heir, and being taught statecraft, to the day Lorna’s powers manifested and she stepped aside to let their sister so much clearly more their father’s heir learn instead. Lorna is young, though, and her lessons intermittent and Wanda wonders at the mess of the desk until she glimpses a letter tucked beneath a map and a trade agreement.

A letter detailing the terms of the treaty.

* * *

The party is going well. Pietro may not be much one for people, but he can handle them well enough to notice that Lorna is the centre of the party now, and Erik has retreated to his study and-

That concerns him. There is no sign of Wanda.

* * *

He finds her in their father’s study, a piece of paper in her hand as their father ignores her presence with the same calm casualness he has any of them before and flicks through his bookshelves for a volume.

“Wanda?” he asks, but she does not reply. “Father?” He does not respond either.

He reaches, gently, to touch Wanda’s shoulder and she jolts as though shocked.

* * *

_ “No,” _ Wanda says, and runs. Pietro has seen his sister run before - never as fast as he but still fast nonetheless, darting and light on her feet as a doe - but this…

If anything Wanda is  _ fleeing. _

“What was in the letter?” Pietro asks, voice low and level as he watches their father. Erik does not look up from his book, ignoring him as he has always tended to. “Father.”

“The price of peace,” Erik says, waving a hand. “Go ask your sister.”

Pietro frowns and rocks back on his heels, watching and assessing. He does not give voice to his threat - it is not as though their father has ever  _ listened _ to him. He thinks it though, as he rocks back on his heels, relaxes into a run and finds his way to his twin.

_ If you have hurt her-- _

* * *

Wanda is curled small in the scalloped edge of the alcove, her face pressed to her knees, their father’s letter dangling from her fingertips, parchment brushing over her feet. She hears Pietro’s approach, the desperate patter of his feet on stone slowing to soft steps.

“Wanda?” he asks. He doesn’t need to say more - after all these years they know each other’s minds so well. She doesn’t look up as she holds out the letter but she does tilt her head to speak as she feels him pluck it from her fingers and settle at her side.

“The price of peace,” Wanda says. “A price  _ we _ and not  _ he _ have to pay.”

* * *

The price of peace is this: two weddings binding their family to those of their enemies, magic to the magicless, power to those who wanted it. Two weddings and the twins parted forever more, to stay only with strangers, bound to their new homes in such a way they might never leave.

“We are pawns to him,” Wanda says to her knees, eyes fixed on the floor. “Pawns to be used and played and lost as he decrees.”

Pietro cannot tear his eyes from the letter.  _ We are going to be parted. _

* * *

_ We are going to be parted, _ Pietro thinks, and Wanda sees every fear that passes through his mind. Not saying goodbye, not being there for each other if one of them is sick or hurt, not being there if one of them needs comfort, needs  _ protecting  _ \- and Wanda sees how Pietro’s mind begins to spin into panic. Her own mind is not far from following.

Pietro must sense it though - Pietro has always sensed it, and always so much more quickly when they are close, and she senses his thoughts turn to her as her hand is gripped by his.

* * *

He grips her hand in his, and she grips back. Blue reinforces his strength and scarlet hers, and they grip so hard their bones ache but they will not let go. The bond of blood that has bound them from birth sings. The bond they have chosen as twins and to be close as twins thrums. In their minds, the panic rings round, a gonging bell from one to the other, louder and louder and louder, and Pietro presses his cheek to Wanda’s.

He does not need to speak. She does not need to hear. Their minds are in accord as they cling to each other and fold from two beings into one.

* * *

It is not conscious, the decision they make. It is not even consented to, truly, is not asked nor answered but it is  _ done _ nonetheless, an instinctive bond made more and stronger by a refusal to be parted, by their minds ringed in panic and aligned in desperation, by their clinging folding need and their actions as they pull each other as close as any two living beings can be.

They are bound in blood, and they are bound by choice, and their minds sing in tune when they draw close.

And they make a bond to bind them still yet closer.

* * *

“This was wrong,” Wanda says, clutching her dress up to cover herself. Pietro slumped on the floor beside her, does not disagree. He can feel the bond that sings between them, though, the bridge between their minds, yes, but this new one, a primal magic and a base one, born of desire and need and blood and choice, Wanda’s magic and his willingness to be whatever she needed. “This was wrong,” Wanda says again. Pietro reaches out, blindly but instinctively, for his twin’s hand.

He relaxes as he feels Wanda’s hand slip into his.

“Maybe,” he murmurs. “But he can’t part us now, not without risking killing us.”

They both know this - the truth of it, the detail, the exact  _ precision. _ Erik would risk Pietro, yes, and has done many a time, but he would never risk Wanda’s life for all he’s happy to risk her happiness.

Pietro is languid, calm, every tense muscle loose and relaxed. It may well be wrong, what they have just done, yes, and yet they have never been - may never be - safer.

_ And Wanda chose this for us, _ he thinks.

“It was barely a choice,” Wanda says. “It was… desperate. Frantic.  _ Wrong.” _

Pietro pushes himself up, cups Wanda’s cheek with one hand. “It was a choice,” he says. “That doesn’t mean it has to be chosen  _ again.” _

* * *

_ How are you so  _ **_calm!?_ ** Wanda wants to scream.  _ Why!? _

She can see it, see how at ease her brother is, even after what they have just done.

As ever Pietro sees her thoughts before she has to say them. His hand drops from her cheek to his lap.

“I’m calm because we’re  _ safe,” _ he says. “Because Erik can’t hurt you now, cannot hurt either of us.” He shrugs gently, lifts Wanda’s fallen shawl to drape it around her bare shoulders. “We can’t change what’s done. We can chose to keep from doing it again, if you wish.”

For a long while there is silence, Wanda watching her brother’s face before glancing to the floor. She sees, from the corner of her eye, as he begins to dress himself. 

“We won’t  _ need _ to do it again,” Wanda says softly, and starts pulling on her own clothes. “We are near-enough bound for life.”

* * *

She is recoiling and drawing away and he understands why, on some level. Bound as they are now, bound as they were before, he can’t not. He has always understood her in a way he has not understood anyone else.

“This was a mistake,” she whispers, pulling her clothes to rights. “This was  _ selfish.” _

He reaches for her then, cups her jaw with his hand and pulls her close, her face to his so he can feel her exhale with every breath. 

“Maybe,” he says, “But so was Erik, to decide we should pay the price and then not tell us what price we would pay.” Wanda still is doubting and he leans his forehead to hers, curls his fingers in her hair in the way he always has and offers the promise he always has. “I will do whatever you need me to if it will keep you safe, Wanda. You know that.”

When he pulls away, when he opens his eyes, Wanda is watching him with an expression still half-afraid and regretful. He thinks, now, that perhaps she finally sees that he has never lied when he says that: he has always been willing to do anything if it keeps Wanda safe.

* * *

They walk the way back to the party hand in hand, leaning to each other as they have not done since they were small.

The new-made bond tugs them close, and they think, perhaps, that everyone can see it. Their father’s face, when he sees them, goes purple.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments!


End file.
